


Red is for Ruby, for Fire, for Love

by SilverBlue



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pre-Localised Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBlue/pseuds/SilverBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte is distracted and Saizou wonders why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red is for Ruby, for Fire, for Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the fic I'm supposed to be working on.
> 
> Except the way in which their A support ends, the interaction between Charlotte and Saizou is gold.

“What’s wrong with you lately?”  
  
Charlotte yelped at the sudden question too close to her ear and swung her fist in the direction of the voice. A hand caught her wrist midair.  
  
“Oh, it’s you.” She relaxed her muscles but the man retained his hold. “Why do you always creep up on people like that? Do you _want_ to get hit?”  
  
"I didn’t just now.”  
  
Had it been the very beginning of their relationship, Charlotte would have been yelling at Saizou for his jab, but now that she knew him better she was content to just roll her eyes. She had to rein her anger occasionally otherwise he would ruin her complexion before the war was even over.

“Can’t you just say hello like a normal person?”  
  
He grunted. “Hello.”  
  
“No, that’s not – gods, don’t you know basic conversational skills? You’re supposed to start with hello!”  
  
Saizou didn’t even flinch at her raising her voice. “Not when I have concerns over you.”  
  
Charlotte blinked at the comment. “What do you mean—”  
  
“Your cooking has been off for days, you sorted stock into their wrong places and I remember a few of the comrades were displeased to find their clothing pink after Flannel’s new shirt was mixed in with the laundry.” Saizou had just been relieved that his clothes were dark enough to escape their rosy fate.  
  
“Have you just come here to bad mouth me again?” she snapped, along with her temper. “What I do isn’t your business.”  
  
"Actually, it is. Or has our conversation last week already slipped your mind?"  
  
That’s right. _That_ conversation, the one where they became an “item”. It was anything but forgotten.  
  
“And now you’re staring into space.”  
  
“It’s nothing,” she said, trying to sound casual as she brushed his worries aside. Hungry people would be making their way into the hall soon but his hand was still a vice around her wrist, preventing her from her duties. “Get off me, I need to prepare dinner.”  
  
She glared at him, but his eye was burning with a certain flame she hadn’t seen often enough to read. “We’re supposed to share our concerns. I have shared mine with you – now it’s your turn.”  
  
Her heart jolted at the sincerity of his words combined with the intensity of his stare striking her with the exact precision of his throwing stars.  
  
_Nothing’s exactly wrong_ , she thought to herself, feeling flustered all of a sudden. Only, this wasn’t one bit how she imagined her love life to be. The man in love with her was supposed to be all over her, sweeping her off her feet and showering her with affection, and she was supposed to act all cute and adorable because that’s what men normally wanted. It took a lot of effort, sure, even more so when it wasn’t in her nature, but she had spent so much of her life fantasising about her ideal relationship and the way she would be that it never crossed her mind that she would actually be ... well, her true self.  
  
This man though, it was a mystery why a man such as him wouldn’t want his woman to be soothing and agreeable. All their conversations consisted of disagreements, she constantly at his throat and he unable to finish a sentence without a cutting remark. In her past daydreams, Charlotte would be giggling at sweet nothings whispered in her ear, the air around them thick and sweet with love, but she had a hard time daydreaming those scenarios with the man before her, and anyway, her mind was filled with—  
  
“You’re doing it again,” Saizou’s words cut off her thoughts, his voice rougher than before. “Tell me what’s wrong.”  
  
The more direct his words, the more she seemed to deviate from both her cutesy pretence and her tough nature towards feelings that felt raw – and that fact excited and frightened her.  
  
She examined the man, her so-called other half, searching his semi-concealed face. He was why her concentration was non-existent this past week. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking over (or over thinking?) her decision. Either way, she wasn’t sure if he was right for her, if they really were compatible, and if his “affections” were enough for their relationship to last.  
  
How was it that this man could play her emotions, make her feel so vulnerable?  
  
“Maybe …” she found herself saying in her moment of weakness. “Maybe, we rushed things.”  
  
The air stilled.  
  
She even held her own breath while she willed herself to hold her gaze. Because if she could stare into the eyes of death without fear on the battlefield then she most certainly could stare into the eye of the man in the kitchen while she waited for a simple answer.  
  
“I have something for you,” he said out of nowhere, restarting the world once more.  
  
She felt anger rise; her confession deserved some kind of acknowledgement after he forced it out of her! … But at the same time she was curious.  
  
“... What is it, then?”  
  
He finally released his hold over her to pull out a large wrapping from behind (she didn’t know how she could have missed it.) She had an idea as to what it could be from its rough shape, although there was no denying the feeling of disappointment; she thought it would be something delicate and dainty, a gift suited to a lady. Admittedly as she held the gift in her hands it had a nice weight to it, nothing too heavy, but sturdy and reliable. Carefully unwrapping the brown paper, she found herself holding a brand new axe engraved with small decorations around the edges of the wooden handle, which had been oiled and sealed with wax, and embedded with a single large drop of ruby at the handle end glistening in the light.   
  
“I thought you could use a new one,” he said. “The one you currently use is dangerous. And I know how you always talk of things that … _glitter_.” He said the last word uncertainly as though he was testing it out for the first time, he who spent his whole life avoiding anything that could attract attention, even through the use of words.  
  
“It’s … lovely,” she said softly, running her fingers over the decorations. She loved her current one even with all its scratches and wear, but she had been working with a half-severed handle held together with strips of cloth after a miscalculation landed her axe handle-first onto hardened armour. Every time she used the thing, the crack – the one she could see but could also remember hearing – still felt like it was one of her bones that had taken the blow.   
  
There was only one thing that felt out of place. “A … ruby?”  
  
She had never associated herself with such a vibrant colour, especially as she always thought men would be intimidated by its intensity. It didn’t match her armour or clothes, and she wondered what made him want to disregard the colour coordination she had so carefully picked out. Or was it that he didn’t know her at all, adding another reason for considering a break in their relationship?  
  
She stopped herself from voicing those thoughts when she finally caught sight of the signs to his current expression behind the mask – the faint edges of a blush the mask failed to hide and his refusal to meet her eyes.  
  
“An amulet of sorts.” The mask almost cancelled his mumbling. “I had Benoit work it in.”  
  
She stared down at the hilt, wracking her brains as to what it could mean. She vaguely remembered listening to Benoit describe its features once in the armoury – something about offering protection popped into mind – but she knew there were other stones that held similar meaning. A single red eye watching over her, she was sure it reminded her of something …  
  
Her eyes snapped up just in time to see Saizou quickly averting his gaze from her face. “Is this supposed to be—”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. The blush was spreading and starting to match the colour of the gem. “If you don’t like it I’ll give it to someone else—”  
  
Charlotte snatched it away from his reaching hand. “You can’t take back a present once you give it to someone!” She huffed an amused laugh _. Well, how about that, the gruff ninja has a few surprises up his sleeve._ “You’re a lot more considerate than you let on ... Why don’t you take the mask off so I can offer you a proper thank you? We _are_ meant to be an item.”  
  
He stood up straight with a single cough, her comment seemingly sobering him from his embarrassment. “The only way you’ll see me without this mask is if you cook a meal I consider decent enough to eat.”  
  
“What?!” The fragile romance they had carefully taken turns to piece shattered after a grand total of a few minutes. “You’re impossible! If your taste buds are so impaired you can’t even appreciate my outstanding cooking, you don’t deserve to eat any of my meals!”  
  
“If you consider your recent cooking to be outstanding then I’m not sure I’ll be eating here when you’re in charge of mess hall duty.”  
  
She raised her arm, ready to use her newly acquired weapon. “Get out before I test this out on your head!”  
  
He snorted, taking a step back. “You mean on the wall. Hopefully it will withstand the impact.” The earlier shyness was gone, replaced with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I see I needn't have been concerned, you were merely desperate for my affections.”  
  
He disappeared.  
  
“Me? Desperate?! You’ll be the one crawling to me, begging me for my love and I’ll be laughing into your face as I watch you suffer!” She stood there, waiting with her ears strained, but silence was her reply. She dropped her arm instead to admire her gift which instantly placated her mood.  
  
She ran her thumb over the gem. There were concerns still – a simple present wasn’t able to wipe out her anxiety, she wasn’t that materialistic – but she did feel a small glimmer of hope. “I guess I can’t fault you for your taste,” she said softly, then quickly shook herself out of her little daze. “I’ll show him – telling me my cooking is terrible, who does he think he is?”  
  
But the answer she gave herself when she placed the weapon at a safe distance away from the cooking made her heart flutter.


End file.
